heating the area. Iain's bed was to the left of the doorway. It took up a fair portion of the wall. A quilt, made of the colors of his clan, covered the bed, and a small chest with two candles on top was next to the wall.
There was only one chair in the room, near the hearth. Another chest, much larger and taller than the one by the bed, was on the opposite wall. An ornate, gold-rimmed square box sat on top of the chest.
Iain wasn't much for clutter, she decided. The room was functional, efficient, and very like the man who slept here.
There was a large wooden tub directly in front of the fireplace. Steam filtered up from the water. Iain had thoughtfully anticipated her request for a bath even before she'd asked him.
He tossed her valise on the bed. 'Is there anything else you need?'
She needed not to be afraid, but she didn't tell him that. 'No, thank you.'
She continued to stand in the center of the room, her hands folded together, waiting and praying he would leave so she could have her bath in privacy.
He wondered why she was hesitating to get the chore done. 'Do you need help getting undressed?' he asked.
'No,' she blurted out, appalled by the very idea. 'I remember how,' she added in a calmer voice.
He nodded, then motioned with the crook of his finger for her to come to him. She didn't hesitate. She stopped when she was just a foot away.
He was pleased she didn't flinch when he reached for her. He lifted her hair back over her shoulder, then slipped his fingers in around the neckline of her gown to catch hold of her chain.
He didn't say a word until he'd removed the chain and ring.
'Do you remember the promises you gained from me today?'
She nodded. Dear God, he wasn't going to tell her he'd changed his mind, was he?
He saw the look of panic on her face and shook his head. 'I have never broken my word before, Judith, and I won't break it now.' His guess had been proven correct. The fear immediately left her gaze. 'If you knew me better, you never would have had that worry.'
'But I don't know you better,' she whispered, excusing her behavior.
'I have a promise I want you to give me,' he explained. He dropped the chain and ring into her hand. 'I don't want you to wear this to bed.'
It didn't sound like a request to her, but an order. He didn't explain his reasons either. Judith was about to ask him why he would want such a promise, then changed her mind. He hadn't made her explain why she wanted him to promise he'd never get sotted when he was with her, and he deserved to receive the very same consideration.
'I agree.'
He nodded. He looked satisfied.
'Do you want me to throw it away?'
'No,' he answered. 'Put it in there,' he told her, motioning to the small box on top of the chest. 'No one will bother it.'
She hurried to do what he suggested. 'May I keep the brooch my aunt Millicent gave me in here, too?' she asked. 'I wouldn't want to lose it.'
He didn't answer her. She turned around and only then realized that he had left the room. He hadn't made a sound.
She shook her head. She must have a talk with him about his rude habit of disappearing like that, she decided.
Since she didn't have any idea how long he planned to stay away, she hurried through her bath. She wasn't planning to wash her hair, but then changed her mind.
Iain opened the door while she was rinsing the rose-scented soap from her hair. He got a glimpse of golden skin before he pulled the door closed again. He leaned against the wall and waited for his bride to finish.
He didn't want to embarrass her. The woman was taking forever, though. He had walked a fair distance to the water basin, washed, and then walked back, fully expecting that his bride would be waiting in bed for him.
He waited another fifteen minutes, then went inside. Judith was sitting on a blanket on the floor directly in front of the hearth, diligently drying her hair. She wore a prim white nightgown and matching robe.
She looked absolutely beautiful to him. Her face was scrubbed pink everywhere and her hair was the color of pale gold.
Iain leaned against the door frame for several minutes, just staring at her. A tightness settled in his chest. She was his wife. Aye, she belonged to him now. A feeling of contentment swept over him, catching him by surprise. It all seemed so inevitable to him. Why had he put himself through the torment of trying to stay away from her? From the moment he first kissed her, he should have accepted the truth. His heart had always known he would never let another man have her. Why had it taken his mind so long to accept?
Matters of the heart were damn confusing, he decided. He remembered how he'd boasted to Patrick that one woman was just as good as another. He understood the blasphemy in that arrogant remark now. There was only one Judith.
Iain shook himself out of his foolish thoughts. He was a warrior. He shouldn't be thinking about such inconsequential things.
He turned around to go back into the hall and then let out a shrill whistle. The sound echoed down the stairs. Iain came back into the room and walked over to the hearth. He leaned against the mantel, not two feet away from his bride, and pulled his boots off.
She was about to ask him why he'd left the door open when three men came hurrying inside. They nodded to their laird, crossed the chamber and lifted the tub. They were quite deliberate in keeping their gazes away from Judith while they carried the heavy tub out of the room.
Iain followed them to the door and was about to shut it when someone shouted his name. He let out a sigh and left the chamber again.
He didn't come back for almost an hour. The heat from the fire had made Judith sleepy. Her hair was just a little damp now and most of the curl was back. She stood up, put her brush back on the mantel, and went over to the side of the bed. She was removing her robe when Iain came back inside.
He shut the door, bolted it, and then took off his plaid. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.
She thought she was going to die of embarrassment then and there. She turned her gaze to the center beam in the ceiling, but not before she had gotten a rather healthy glimpse of him. No wonder Frances Catherine had cried on her wedding night. If Patrick was fashioned anything like Iain was, and she was guessing he probably was, she could well understand weeping. God's truth, her eyes were already getting misty. Oh Lord, she really wasn't prepared for this. She had made a mistake after all. No, no, she wasn't ready for this kind of intimacy. She didn't know him well enough… she never should have-
'It's going to be all right, Judith.'
He was standing right in front of her. She wouldn't look at him. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. 'It really will be all right. You trust me, don't you?'
His voice was filled with tenderness. It didn't help. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. That didn't help either.
And then he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She let out a little sigh and settled down. It was going to be all right. Iain wouldn't hurt her. He loved her.
She leaned a little away so she could look up into his eyes. There was such warmth there, a little amusement, too.
'Don't be afraid,' he told her, his voice a soothing whisper.
'How do you know I'm afraid?'
He smiled. 'Afraid' wasn't quite the right word, he decided. 'Terrified' was a far more accurate description. 'You have the same expression on your face you had the night I told you Isabelle wanted you to help her deliver her son.'
She turned her gaze to his chest. 'I didn't want to help because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to… Iain, I don't believe I want to do this, either. I know it will be all right, but I still would rather not-'
Judith didn't finish her confession. She went back into his arms and rested against him.
Iain was pleased she was able to be honest with him, but he was frustrated, too. He had never taken a virgin
